Making sweet music
Musicians may be the sexiest men alive.
And, somehow, you can look as ugly as Mick Jagger or Fat Joe and still probably get laid. If it’s not their looks, then it must be their talent.
Think of any musician you’ve ever seen on stage. Watch their fingers move across that guitar, their feet moving, and sometimes, their hips shaking just ever so slightly as they’re jamming out on their guitar, trombone, keyboard, or microphone.
And then just look at the intensity in their eyes as they focus on the song they’re playing.
Watching a musician on stage – especially a good one – is like having really good sex, or at the very least, watching someone have really good sex without all of the pornographic and voyeuristic shame that goes along with it.
You have to exude a certain type of charisma to get on stage and bear your soul to the audience. Nothing’s sexier than a little bit of vulnerability. If they’ve got a rockin’ body to go along with it, that’s just a bonus.
I’ve spent some time on stage. Not as a musician, but as an actor. You have to be so exceedingly confident to get up on stage and perform that it usually translates into other avenues and other talents. Musicians don’t hide behind a mask (unless you’re Cory Taylor) and they don’t build themselves up with boxy equipment on their bodies. There’s a smooth, quiet, but ferocious sexuality to a musician on stage that just makes me swoon every time.
You can’t get that with an athlete. With an athlete, they’re boxed up behind equipment and helmets. All you get is raw power, which might be great in the bedroom, but if what I’ve heard about Mick Jagger is true, there’s a lot of power to be had from a musician.
Athletes are big and rough and tough; they don’t have any of the finesse of a musician, who must spend hours refining their craft down to the tiniest detail and movement. They train their fingers and their mouths to work in precise ways to get that perfect sound.
Just think of what they can do off the stage with training like that.